Dutton’s revelatory cycle of Richard Arnell’s symphonies reaches a fitting culmination with this highly stimulating anthology. It’s launched in arresting fashion by the Sinfonia quasi variazioni of 1941, an economical and inventive canvas of considerable dramatic and emotional scope premiered by Beecham in March of the following year.

By contrast, the First (1943) of Arnell’s six numbered symphonies wears an altogether more restrained, urbane and finely chiselled demeanour. This, too, dates from Arnell’s prolific New York sojourn, and both Beecham (who was the dedicatee and gave the first performance at New York Town Hall in May 1944) and Bernard Herrmann were early exponents of a work which Arnell initially designated as a “Chamber Symphony” on the manuscript but which (as annotator Lewis Foreman sagely observes) is surely rather more deserving of the epithet “Classical Symphony”.

Over half a century separates it and the completion of the Sixth Symphony (1992-94). Lasting just under 14 minutes, this is an enigmatic, often uncompromisingly gritty statement, with something of the barefaced agitation and autobiographical resonance of Malcolm Arnold’s symphonic output. Its four parts run without a break and there are key roles for anvil (best heed the warning on the rear sleeve about replay levels!) and piano (to quote from Arnell’s own programme-notes, “in concertante style, representing the composer as pianist, co-operating in his own work”).

As on previous volumes, Martin Yates’s clear-headed interpretations fairly crackle with conviction, and the Dutton microphones capture the RSNO’s spirited and eloquent contribution to extremely vivid, if occasionally raw effect. A splendid conclusion to what has been a courageous and consistently absorbing series.